


take a dose of me, it doesn’t hurt at all

by maranhig



Series: i’ll match the color scheme of your bedroom walls [3]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: ???? I guess, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Frottage, M/M, POV Second Person, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Scent Kink, Teasing, so much of it. way too much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 19:27:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29954763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maranhig/pseuds/maranhig
Summary: you should be suspicious. you are, a little. but his voice, his warm hands, his praise, the faded sensations in this late hour, dull your higher thinking./in which sykkuno unwinds before bed.
Relationships: Corpse Husband/Sykkuno (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: i’ll match the color scheme of your bedroom walls [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2192532
Comments: 4
Kudos: 172





	take a dose of me, it doesn’t hurt at all

"Please, Sy?" Corpse mumbles into the crook of your neck. He's leaving gentle, closed-mouthed kisses there as his hands knead your thighs.

As much as you like the attention, you want to sleep in your nice new bed more. You just ended stream a while ago, and it's already pushing two in the morning. After squirming with indecision, you sigh, "Later today instead, okay?"

"I just wanna look." He sounds like he's absolutely _pouting_ , which makes you laugh a little.

"Look?"

"Yeah, sweetheart." Ah. He's using _that_ voice on you. The one that doesn't go deeper so much as gentler, softer; sliding across your senses like satin. He tugs at your boxers as he murmurs, "Just wanna look at my handsome man."

You should be suspicious. You are, a little. But his voice, his warm hands, his praise, the faded sensations in this late hour, all dull your higher thinking. "Okay, okay. Go look."

"Thank you," he says as he kisses you. You can feel his smile on your mouth. You're about to ask what exactly he means by 'look' when he starts rucking up your t-shirt. He kisses down your chest, your navel, as he inches your boxers off completely.

It takes you a moment to realize you're already half-hard, and you twitch and gasp at the cool air. Corpse crowds right in to remedy that, body heat and soft breaths and sly hands. He spreads your legs apart, then pillows his cheek on one of your thighs. His gaze is a physical weight on you, making you shudder almost as bad as the tickle of his curls.

"So excited already, Sy? All we've done is kiss." he's outright teasing you, you know it now, too little too late.

"Wh-what are you even doing?"

"Mm, I told you, just looking." He rubs his cheek on your thigh, and you hate how that one action alone makes you throb. He must see it, because he laughs in delight, a child with a new toy. "You're so _sensitive_. So gorgeous. Can never get enough of you."

It should be humiliating, how by his honeyed words and his indirect caresses alone, he's gotten you so worked up. You can't blame yourself, though. Corpse is a force of nature, and you can do nothing but stand in his path, wait for rain.

His hands squeeze the insides of your thighs, high up enough that the motions graze your balls a little. You have to bite your lip hard to prevent moaning from such a simple act. You're still not sure what game he's playing, but you don't want to let him win.

Except staying silent is a mistake, because he _keeps talking_.

"Fuck, you even _smell_ delicious," he growls, his tone dipping from cotton candy tease to hard liquor hungry.

"W-what the heck!" you squeal, your face burning. "Corpse, I haven't showered! That's so weird!" _So hot_ , you refuse to admit aloud. There's definitely something wrong with the both of you, at this point.

Like he's read your mind, he rumbles, "Mmm... I'm just a weird pervert who loves how you smell. And how you taste, too."

You smack one hand at his shoulder and another at your mouth, trying in vain to muffle your whimper. But Corpse just doesn't stop.

"Holy shit, you're leaking so much already, I can see it. _Smell_ it. Fuck—god, I wanna lick all that up."

And then, a shock to the senses, he withdraws completely. He sits up and sighs, "But you told me I could only look, so I'm good now."

"Wh-where are you going?" you bleat out, not at all panicked and desperate.

"Oh, i was just gonna go rub one out in the bathroom. Got enough wank material from lookin' at you." In the light of your desk lamp, he's not bothering to hide his smirk, because he is _evil incarnate_ and you _hate him_. "Why?"

You groan, "Get back here," spreading your legs more, thrusting up against the air a little. His eyes follow it, narrowed in interest.

"Thought you were too tired, sweetheart."

"It's your fault!" you moan, trailing a hand down your stomach to finally pump at your cock. You sob in relief at the blessed friction, the sounds so lewd from how much precum is everywhere. " Just— please—"

You yip in shock when Corpse all but bounces back into bed. He's already pulled down his boxers, his cock a hot brand along the line of your hip. He grabs the hand you used to touch yourself and licks along it like a man starved, groaning and sucking on your digits. Your neck strains from how hard you throw it back against the pillow, as you cry out, "God would you _please_ make me cum already—"

"All you had to do was ask," he rasps in your ear, and he takes you both in hand, starts thrusting and grinding against you.

You card a hand through his curls the way you know drives him crazy, because this is payback. "All your fault," you gasp. "Got me so worked up—just can't leave me alone—"

"How can I?" he pants, teeth scraping your neck. "You don't leave me alone either—your laugh, your smile, way you say my name— I want you all the fuckin' time—"

"You have me," you sob, the ache in your heart and your guts both growing too much to bear. "You— don't have to tease it outta me— always want you too—"

"Fuck— _Sy_ —" He cums first, hot splash of sensation that you have no choice but to follow.

You're halfway to passing out after the endorphin high has finished. You're vaguely aware of him wiping you down with something, him tugging your boxers back on for you. "We sleep now, please," you grumble, your eyes glued shut.

He hums in reply, the bed creaking as he lays down beside you. The last thing you remember is his hand in yours as you sink into the black.

**Author's Note:**

> title is from hozier's "i could be yours"
> 
> the diskhorde peeps liked my drabble so i shall release this unto the world in its scarcely-edited glory. woo!
> 
> as always, no sharing this to a CC or im lockinnnn


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